


Comforting Words

by snarkymuch



Series: Broken!Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:27:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymuch/pseuds/snarkymuch





	Comforting Words

Dean prayed to Castiel every night even though he knew the prayers never reached him. At least Dean was pretty sure they didn't. The walls of Purgatory were thick and not meant to allow passage. It hurt Dean to think that Castiel was left behind. He blamed himself for it. If only he had held on longer, Castiel would be there now and Sam wouldn't be so broken.

"Cas, man, I don't know what to do." Dean raked a hand over his face. Sammy was asleep, and Dean was alone in the living room. "I wish you were here. He needs more than I can give. I can't do this alone. I'm lost."

Dean walked over to the couch and flopped down, running his hands through his hair. He glanced at his watch; it was late, and he knew he should be in bed. He sighed, resting his head in his heads and knotting his fingers in his hair. Tears pricked at his eyes.

Even if Cas couldn't heal Sam, he would at least offer Dean someone to talk to, someone to pull strength from. Right now, he was alone. The closest thing to support he had was Garth, and he really didn't count for much.

There was a soft padding of footsteps and Dean looked up, dropping his hands. Sam was standing in the center of the room, staring at Dean. He looked worried, and Dean wondered if another nightmare had awoken him.

Sam had never been able to articulate what his dreams were about, but from the cries and the way Sam would arch and stretch against invisible bonds, Dean could only imagine it was hell that was haunting him.

Dean had tried to ask Sam about it, curious if he remembered the dreams the next day, but Sam shut down when he did. Dean guessed that he did remember, but probably didn't know what it was. Dean had no idea how to explain it, so he didn't.

"Sammy, what are you doing up?"

Sam tilted his head to the side and looked at Dean, his eyes soft.

"Was it another nightmare?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head and walked over to Dean. "I sorry, De."

"Why, Sammy?" Dean jumped to his feet and came to stand in front of his brother, not sure what had happened but needing to know that Sam was all right.

Dean put his hands on Sam's shoulders, looking Sam in the eyes. "What happened?"

Sam shook his head and then brought up a hand to Dean's face. He rested his hand on Dean's cheek, rubbing his thumb against the stubble. Dean looked at him perplexed.

"Sam?"

"Sad," Sam said plainly.

"You're sad? What's wrong?" Dean mind was racing now.

Sam shook his head and dropped his hand only to reach around Dean and pull him to his chest. Dean's brow furrowed, but he let Sam wrap his arms around him. Sam held him close like a child would a teddy bear.

"I sorry, De. Sorry you're sad."

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said against Sam's shirt. "I'm okay."

Sam released him, and Dean took a breath. Sam didn't know his strength.

"Come on, Sam; let's get you back to bed."

Dean wrapped an arm around Sam's back and led him gently back towards the bedroom.

Dean pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillow. "Here you go, nice and cozy."

Sam walked over and plopped down. He wasn't graceful in the least.

Dean smiled and put his hands on Sam's shoulders guiding him down to the mattress.

"You don't have to worry about me, Sam. I'm okay," he said as he tucked the blanket under Sam's chin. "You just relax and let me do the worrying."

Sam frowned. "What's a Cas?"

Dean drew a breath and swallowed. "Cas is a who, Sam. He's a man I once knew. A friend. You knew him, too."

"Was he good?"

"Yeah," Dean said after a minute. "He was good."

Sam chewed at his bottom lip. "He's gone?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, Sam. He's gone."

"Forever?" Sam asked, his brows pinched together.

Dean swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "I don't know, Sammy."

Sam yawned and brought up a hand, rubbing his fist against his eye.

"Go to sleep," Dean ran his fingers through Sam's hair. "You need your rest."

"He'll be back, De," Sam said firmly. "He has to, so you're not sad anymore."

"Oh, Sammy. What am I going to do with you?" Dean whispered.

Sam rolled over on his side and closed his eyes. "Night, De."

Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss to Sam's hair. "Night, Sam."

Dean could only hope that Sam was right. Maybe, by some miracle, Cas would find his way home, find his way back. Dean had to hold onto that hope, because no matter how small, it was all he had; it was all Sam had.


End file.
